


A Nightmare That Steals Away

by Stk (Silasthekitty)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Needs a Hug, Canon Era, Cute, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Merlin is sweet, Merthur - Freeform, Nightmares, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Pining, Protective Merlin, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, scared Arthur Pendragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26295802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silasthekitty/pseuds/Stk
Summary: “Where was Merlin?”A nightmare strikes Arthur. He finds himself traveling to Merlin, the one that will show him it wasn’t real.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 346





	A Nightmare That Steals Away

**Author's Note:**

> My second Merlin fic! This one is a bit longer, and hopefully close to as good as my first. My inspiration was a bit looser this time, but I had just as much fun writing it.
> 
> 2020 and I’ve only just watched Merlin. How!?! I’m absolutely in love with it!

Where was Merlin?

He had just been here, hadn’t he? Arthur looked around his chambers. It was dark outside, but the moon was full, and it cast a haze on the world around him. Arthur got up and walked around the room. Was Merlin hidden behind shadows? Arthur called out to his manservant. There was no answer, only a silence that seemed all too consuming. The king’s heartbeat picked up. Where was his manservant? His friend? Arthur needed him. Why did Arthur need him? He thought, searching his brain for the answer, but he couldn’t find anything. His brain was muddled. Only one thought was clear. 

Find Merlin. 

Arthur’s search became frantic. His hands slipped as they moved around corners and tables and chairs. Merlin’s name crawled its way past the lump in his throat, coming out as a yell that was deafening in the silence of the night. The lack of noise made the hairs on the back of the king’s neck stand up. It pierced his ears, feeling like needles on his eardrums. The silence was louder than a knight’s cry on the cusp of a battle. His hands came up to his ears, trying in a futile attempt to bring relief. If Merlin was here, his incessant chatter would drown out the pain. The thought brought a chuckle to Arthur’s mouth, though it came out weak and lifeless.

A wave of determination came over Camelot’s king. If he found Merlin, all would be well. Merlin’s voice would diminish the silence, his touch would soothe Arthur’s heart and calm his shaky breaths. Only Merlin. Arthur looked towards the door of his chambers. Maybe Merlin was in his room. Why did Merlin leave him? It didn’t matter, he would have a good reason. Merlin would never leave him alone… willingly that is. Panic flowed, sharp through Arthur’s veins, right to his heart. 

He bolted to the door and out into the hall, rushing in the direction of the physician’s quarters. The silence was even more persistent out here if that was even possible. No flickering of the torches, no footsteps from the guards, or any quiet, hushed talking. Where were the guards, why weren’t they here? This only fueled the panic the king felt, but he didn’t stop running. He had to get to Merlin, it would be okay if he could only find him. He needed him. Why?.... Arthur needed Merlin to calm him, to fix this, that was right. But wait, where was Merlin? That’s what he was trying to find out. Merlin’s room never felt so far away. 

The sound of Arthur’s boots thundered as he weaved his way through the halls. He ran as hard as he could. Not once did he stop to catch his breath. He ran for what felt like hours before arriving at the physician‘s chambers. The king didn’t spare one glance around, instead of going straight for his manservant’s room. The door slammed against the wall as Arthur made his way in, frantically searching for a familiar head of messy, black hair.

No one was in the room. Merlin wasn’t in the room. Arthur shouted Merlin’s name as if it would call him from the shadows. Where could he be? Arthur turned around about to shout for him again, but Merlin wasn’t there. Why wasn’t he with Arthur? He just had been. Arthur’s breathing picked up despite feeling like it was moving as fast as it could. Arthur needed to find Merlin because…. because Merlin would chase away the bad and soothe Arthur. He ran out of the room, back into the halls, to search for his manservant.

Camelot’s king searched the kitchens, he searched the armory, the battlements, the courtyard, the training grounds, the whole castle, with no luck. He even went as far as to go down to the tavern, but it was in vain, for Merlin wasn’t there either, no one was. The panic that had been ebbing away at Arthur’s very being seized him at last, as he made it back to the steps of the castle. The silence came screeching back, making his head pound and his ears fill with pain. The lump that formed in his throat when he first couldn’t find Merlin was back, making it hard for Arthur to breathe. Knees slammed into stone as he fell. Merlin could fix this, where was he? Where was Merlin? Why wasn’t he here? 

Why did Merlin leave him?

Arthur startled awake, a gasp filling his lungs with air. His heart pounded with residual panic, so hard that he could hear it in his ears. It felt as though there was a gaping hole in his chest, one filled with worry and dread. Disoriented, Arthur sat up and looked around. He was in his chambers, in his bed, not in the courtyard. A fleeting thought that perhaps it had still been true struck him. That Merlin really was gone, and he had just been found by a guard. But as he listened, Arthur could hear the echoes of footsteps in the hall. He heard the low whistle of wind outside, and the call of birds in the night. A sob of relief almost escaped Arthur at the lack of silence. He didn’t think that he would want the world to be quiet ever again. 

Despite that small comfort, the king was still reeling from his…. nightmare? His lungs heaving, and his heart pounding. His mind adrift and filled with fog. Arthur couldn’t get himself to calm down. A faint hope drug his eyes around his chambers in vain, scanning for the one thing, the one person, that could lull him back to peace. No such luck was granted, and Arthur stumbled out of the bed on shaking legs towards the door. He just had to get to Merlin’s room. Merlin would be there right, there was no way he wouldn’t be. Arthur’s dream hadn’t been real, had it? The rising panic was shoved down but got caught in his throat as the king stepped into the hall. There were guards at least, who were looking at him questionably now, along with torches, audible and casting warm light on the castle stone. 

“Merlin,” was the only answer Arthur managed to give to the guard’s looks. They relaxed, understanding what that one name meant even if he couldn’t. The king continued through the castle, each step occurring in time with the thrum of the heart in his chest. Unlike in his nightmare, it felt like he appeared in front of the physician’s chambers in the blink of an eye. He’d passed people along the way, more guards or knights, even the occasional wandering servant. All gave him the same look as the guards back at his chambers, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, too caught up in the desire for Merlin. 

The door swung, hitting the wall behind it with a soft thud, as Arthur made his way into the quarters of the physician and his apprentice. A low shuffle stopped Arthur in his path, and the king’s head snapped toward the sound. Gaius’s sleeping form caught his eye and he waited until the older man settled before resuming his task. Hurriedly, Arthur made his way to Merlin’s room. Anticipation pumped through his veins with every step he took. What would he do if Merlin wasn’t in his bed? No… he would be. His manservant would be asleep peacefully, and Arthur could simply head back to his own bed, reassured that Merlin was here. 

When the king’s hand finally reached up and pushed the door to the small room open, it felt as if a rope that had been wrapped tightly around his ribs, crushing him, was finally cut. Instinctively, he took a deep breath, so large that it could be heard in the softness of the night. Arthur’s plan had been to merely come and make sure that Merlin was still with him. To justify that it had been just a nightmare, and then retreat back to his own room. But standing here now, with Merlin so close, still out of reach, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Seeing his friend asleep hadn’t been enough. Never in his right mind would he admit it, but right now, still dazed and panicked, he needed Merlin to be awake. Needed Merlin to hold him, to look him in the eyes, and assure the king that he would never leave him. 

With no room for self-doubt, Arthur strode to the side of the bed and grasped Merlin’s wrist. Merlin had his back facing the king and turned slowly until he was lying flat. Blearily, he looked up at Arthur, half asleep and confused about whatever had woken him. 

“Arthur?” Merlin grumbled, voice thick with sleep, “What are you doing, is something wrong?” Camelot’s king nearly cried out with relief at Merlin’s words. He wasn’t gone, he was right here as always. The boy’s hand came up to rub at his eyes and at that moment, Arthur saw just how young his manservant was. Full of childlike innocence brought on by his slumber. 

Merlin’s wrist was still held within Arthur’s grip. The feel of his skin relaxing the king, but it wasn’t enough. Arthur needed more. And so, without responding, he fell onto the bed by Merlin’s feet and pulled him into a hug. The arms of the king locked around Merlin’s body, too afraid to let go. Shock woke Merlin instantly, and after a second of getting his bearings, he returned the embrace. While Arthur’s hug was desperate and needy and vulnerable, Merlin’s was soft and strong and comforting. Finally, Arthur could breathe. The safety of his friend protecting him from every bit of his nightmare that still lingered in his mind. 

Without letting go, Merlin whispered, “Arthur I- what happened?” His tone was full of distress, asking Arthur to let him help. 

For a moment, Arthur said nothing, selfishly taking the peace he found in Merlin’s arms for himself. Closing his eyes, and feeling his heartbeat finally slow, his lungs find an even rhythm. Merlin was here, he wasn’t hurt, he didn’t leave. Just as his manservant began to give up hope on getting an answer, he responded. 

“You were gone.”

The words were followed by a tightness that coiled through the king. At the same time, he felt the steady rise and fall of the chest against his still. “I couldn’t remember where you were, why you left. I thought that maybe you had gotten hurt...

“Or that you left me.”

Abruptly, Merlin pulled away from Arthur. And he, without his rational mind to stop him, reached out and caught Merlin’s wrist once again. Perhaps it was because the loss of contact felt too similar to the loss within his nightmare. Merlin just smiled gently and turned his hand so that his fingers laced with Arthur‘s. It should have made the king pull away, Merlin was a servant, let alone a man, but he found himself tightening his grip instead. With anyone else it would feel wrong, yet, with Merlin, he found it sending a soft warmth throughout his body. The confusing line of thought was pushed from Arthur’s mind by the voice of the boy whose hand he was holding. 

“Arthur I would never leave you. I will remain by your side until the day I die. My loyalties are to you and only you,” Merlin then looked straight into the blue eyes across from his own, “For you, Arthur, are my once and future king.” 

The proclamation struck Arthur down to the core. Every last wisp of panic and fear was slain away by his manservant’s words. But that title didn’t satisfy Merlin’s importance, did it? Right now, here on this bed in the middle of the night, the word manservant could no longer describe Merlin. How could it, after that speech of his? A manservant should always be loyal to their master, of course, but their loyalties were of a fixed nature. Hardly ever going beyond the formalities of status except for when that difference in class was dismissed and replaced with a relationship of sorts. It made sense, how could there not be a connection when two people spent every day in the other’s company. If Arthur looked closely, the relationship between him and Merlin was much the same. Except, as proven over and over again by the younger boy and even Camelot’s king himself, the connection between the two of them was something more. It had always been, even if Arthur couldn’t identify exactly how.

Merlin had been looking into his eyes this whole time. Two pairs of blue eyes, but ones so different, holding their own memories and stained with opposing hues. Arthur’s blue shining and bright like the sky, where Merlin’s blue was deep and consuming like the sea. Emotions glided across the surface of their eyes. And maybe that’s what gave him away because Merlin got this look. The one he got when he said things that were too wise to come from someone as young and as much of a bumbling idiot as Merlin. Arthur watched as Merlin raised the hand which wasn’t already being held tightly by the king. But instead of coming to rest on Arthur’s cheek like expected, Merlin’s hand continued to the back of his neck. Once there, his friend pulled and Arthur allowed his head to be guided forwards until it rested against Merlin’s. 

Before Merlin could say another thing that would flood the king with emotion, the latter spoke up. “Thank you,” he whispered, so soft it was almost swept away by the night. 

He had wanted to say more. Wanted to preach his thanks, to prove his gratitude with his words, and show Merlin that he would uproot the world for the boy. That he knew of his Merlin’s magic, and the king cared for him all the more because of it. But he couldn’t find the words to express any of what he wanted to say, all he could offer was a ‘thank you’. And despite Arthur’s struggle, Merlin seemed to understand. 

They remained together, heads touching and fingers locked, for an amount of time lost to the king. Eventually, though, the younger boy sighed, saying how they should try and get some sleep before sunrise. The worry that he would have to go back to his chambers alone was cut short as Merlin leaned backward, pulling Arthur down beside him. Merlin pushed Arthur flat on his back and turned on his side to accommodate the small bed. The hand in the king’s let go for a moment, going to pull the blanket up around them before stretching across Arthur’s chest to once again intertwine their fingers. Merlin threw his leg over one of Arthur’s, and fit his head onto the shoulder of Camelot’s king. From here, Arthur was barricaded by Merlin, safe from every monster if only for that night. He wrapped his arm around his manservant, his friend, bringing it to rest on the boy’s waist. 

Where was Merlin? 

Arthur knew the answer now. He was right here, alongside Arthur until the end of time.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave your feedback in the comments.


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